In the Family Way
by CityDurl
Summary: No one can tell when an android is expecting, especially if he won't tell. One-shot before The Offspring.


Data was something of a celebrity at the cybernetics conference. Many of the scientists, engineers, and programmers gathered at the floor-to-ceiling windowed convention facility situated beside a sparkling lake recognized the uniformed android on sight, and reacted to him with a mixture of awe, envy, condescension, and curiosity. Though more than a thousand professionals were in attendance, a familiar face sometimes stood out in the crowd. Kareen Briannon ran up to the android during registration and threw her arms around him with an enthusiastic hug. She extracted a promise for lunch in two days' time and walked away, leaving a wake of jealous stares behind her. Later, as Data filed into the vast banquet hall for the opening ceremony, he caught the fervent gaze of Cdr. Bruce Maddox. Data returned his look with a dispassionate one and inclined his head. Maddox gave him a ghost of a smile and nodded back. Though the android felt no animosity for the cyberneticist, he chose a seat far away, a lone empty chair in the crowded front row.

The conference director welcomed the assembled company, thanked the host organization, and began to go over the highlights of the schedule. He mentioned a presentation that Data had marked as being of particular interest: a member of the host organization's cybernetics team, a Zee-Magnees Prize candidate, was presenting a new technology for sub-micron matrix transfer. This session was the reason that Data had requested a week's leave and made the two-day shuttle trip. The ability to replicate complex neural net pathways – the ramifications were of great significance to the android. His sense of anticipation was high; he was counting down to the millisecond the approach of the scheduled session.

His innate patience served him well; Data arrived early for the midmorning session. His presence sent a ripple of excitement through a room where the atmosphere was already electric. The presentation ran overtime, with a lively question and answer discussion at the conclusion. It was well into the lunch hour before the presenter finally wrapped up, and the audience began to disperse.

Data chose this moment to approach the scientist. "Dr. Venko?"

The sprightly man extended his hand and shook Data's vigorously. "Lt. Cdr. Data. The honor is mine."

"A pleasure to meet you, sir. Your work is of particular interest to me. I wonder if you could spare a moment –"

"Of course, of course, Commander. Please – come to my lab. We have much to discuss."

Data and the scientist missed the rest of the sessions that day. They remained cloistered together in Dr. Venko's lab, experimenting with the new technology. The doctor generously provided the android with replications of the transfer apparatuses. It was late by the time the doctor declared himself exhausted. Data requested the use of the lab overnight, and the scientist magnanimously agreed.

Alone, Data contemplated the day's work. He had constructed the inchoate rudiments of a positronic brain, using his own as a model. They had set up an interface to the brain with Dr. Venko's computer; so far, the brain was little more than an extremely sophisticated computer itself, but Data had high hopes.

He worked straight through to the next day, laying down additional pathways from his neural nets. Data worked up until the last possible second before he had the minimum time necessary to travel to his lunch appointment with Briannon. The petite blonde was waiting for him in the garden courtyard of the facility, at a table with a view of the lake, shaded from the clear blue sky by a tree heavy with pink and green buds.

"I ordered already – hope you don't mind. I know you weren't going to eat." She rose and shook his hand. "It's so nice to see you, Data."

"It is nice to see you, too." They sat down, and Kareen began to fill him in on her life in the year since Dr. Ira Graves' death. Her soft brown eyes sparkled as she chatted about the cyberneticist she'd been assisting for the past eight months. Data kept up an attitude of attention, but a good portion of his higher functioning processes was back in the lab with the matrix that was the start of something – someone – special.

Kareen smiled at the pensive android. "Data, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were distracted."

He brought more of his attention to the present moment. "Pardon me. I have spent the past 24 hours at work on…a project that…has great import to me. To my life."

"Oh! How exciting – tell me about it."

Data considered. The assemblage of circuitry back in the lab was no conglomeration of cells, no blastocyst feeding on his own body, but it was still a part of him, and he felt protective of it. Yes, it was a part of him, made of himself, and he realized that he wished to keep it a secret, like a mother whose intuition whispered something to her heart long before she could share the information with anyone else.

"No, no need. Please continue. I am listening."

* * *

><p>Data returned to the lab after saying goodbye to Kareen. Dr. Venko had not returned, and Data reasoned that the scientist must have decided to give the android the time he needed for his experiment. Data was grateful for the doctor's consideration; the undertaking was quickly becoming more personal than he would have imagined.<p>

The time had come to communicate with the brain. Data pondered what first message he should send – how best to initiate contact with his progeny. A million questions presented themselves. After a long three seconds' deliberation, he chose one.

He typed into the keyboard, "Are you there?" and waited. The question was simple only on the surface: it required an understanding of "are" as a state of being, "you" to indicate the self, and "there" as a place in time, as well as the understanding that a query would require a response. The cursor blinked in the text box. Data could read activity in the positronic brain, but there was no reply. He began to think that his attempt had been premature, when the cursor was replaced by letters.

"Affirmative."

Success! Data was highly encouraged. "I am here with you," he typed in response.

The neural pathways of the brain were lighting up the monitor. "Who are you?" came the text response.

Data was deeply satisfied. The results were even better than he had hoped – an awareness of self as independent of others – this was truly the start of not just something, but someone.

"I am Data," he typed back. "My name is Data. You may call me Father."

The response time was shortening. "Father. Do I have a name?"

Data had already given the matter a good deal of thought. Naming one's child was no decision to be made lightly. Out of trillions of choices, Data had narrowed the field to something short and meaningful.

"You are Lal. Your name is Lal."

"I am Lal," appeared in the text box.

"Hmph," said Data aloud. Something was happening inside him. A new pathway was forming – a new attachment to this little proto-being. He was suddenly essayed by an eruption of hopes and plans – he would build his child a body, and allow it to choose its appearance and sex. He would show it everything that he had learned – so much – and give it the sum of human knowledge from his own brain. He would guide its steps, and show it the wonder of life. They would be together. They would be a family. He would no longer be alone.

Lal was initiating communication. "Father, are you there?"

Data typed back without a moment's hesitation, "Affirmative, Lal. I am here with you. Always."

_A/N: Anyone who's ever been pregnant knows that period of time when you walk around heavy with a secret, feeling little feelings that only you can feel, listening to a little voice that only you can hear. Anyone who's struggled with infertility or the loss of a child knows the grief that comes when that little voice is silenced. The Offspring always makes me cry, but I felt like there was a happy story to be told, when Data experiences that moment of having a very special secret, with all of the hopes and dreams that come along with it. Words taken from the episode written by René Echevarria._


End file.
